Before the Page Turns
02 Jun 2026:
There are seasons in life that feel like one long holding pattern.
You're not where you were.
But you're not where you're going yet.
You're standing in the space between chapters.
That's exactly where I find myself today.
The house is almost finished. The endless projects that once felt overwhelming are finally nearing completion. The trikes are for sale. The truck may be next—assuming my daughter-in-law eventually finds my keys.
Soon, the house will go on the market.
Soon, another chapter will close.
But not quite yet.
The divorce is behind me, at least legally. The papers have been signed, the judgment entered, and the marriage is over. Yet closure isn't always found in a court order.
The financial obligations remain unresolved.
This Thursday, I meet with my attorney again. After months of delays, excuses, and waiting, I have reached a place of clarity.
I'm done.
Not angry.
Not bitter.
Just done.
There comes a point when accountability is no longer about revenge. It's about fairness. It's about refusing to continue carrying burdens that were never yours alone to carry.
At the same time, life has reminded me that healing is rarely a straight line.
Another cancer surgery is ahead.
Right now, I'm waiting to establish care with a new oncologist and get it scheduled. It's not the news I wanted, but life has taught me that strength isn't found in pretending things aren't difficult.
Strength is found in continuing forward anyway.
The truth is, I am tired.
Not defeated.
Not hopeless.
Just tired.
Tired of court battles.
Tired of uncertainty.
Tired of waiting for other people to do the right thing.
But somewhere underneath that exhaustion, something else is growing.
Excitement.
In just a few weeks, Cannoli and I will head to Colorado for Peace, Love and Vans.
Our first van event.
Our first gathering of people who understand that home isn't always a place. Sometimes it's a feeling. A choice. A direction.
Maybe to everyone else, it's just a weekend.
To me, it feels like a glimpse of the future.
The future I've been quietly building while dealing with cancer, divorce, lawyers, home renovations, and everything else life decided to throw my way.
I don't know exactly what next year will look like.
I don't know when the house will sell.
I don't know how the legal issues will resolve.
I don't know what the surgeon will say.
But I know this:
For the first time in a very long time, I am making plans that aren't about surviving.
They're about living.
And that feels different.
Lately, I've found myself listening to Bob Seger's Turn the Page.
Not because it's a song about endings.
Because it's a song about continuing.
About carrying every mile, every scar, every lesson, and still choosing to move forward.
There isn't always a perfect ending before a new chapter begins.
Sometimes there are loose ends.
Sometimes there are unanswered questions.
Sometimes there are battles still left to fight.
But eventually, there comes a moment when you stop rereading the old pages.
You take a breath.
You look ahead.
And you turn the page.
The page hasn't turned completely yet.
But I can feel my fingers reaching for it.
And when it finally does, Cannoli and I will be ready.
Every chapter counts, especially the ones still unwritten.
🌿 Reflection for the Journey
What chapter are you standing between right now?
Is there something you're still carrying from the last chapter that no longer belongs in the next one?
Maybe it's a relationship.
Maybe it's regret.
Maybe it's fear.
Maybe it's the belief that you need all the answers before you can move forward.
This week, ask yourself:
What page am I ready to turn, even if the story isn't finished yet?
Take a moment to write it down.
One sentence.
One promise.
One small step toward the life waiting ahead.
Because sometimes the bravest thing we do isn't knowing what comes next.
It's turning the page anyway.
📖 Journal Prompt
What am I still holding onto from a chapter that has already ended, and what would it look like to finally let it go?
🎵 Music Pairing: Turn the Page — Bob Seger
https://open.spotify.com/track/3P2XAL8UpPBM3nfvuEjHHE?si=f1639deba62c4063
I leave you with this last thought:
"There are seasons in life that feel like one long holding pattern. You're not where you were, but you're not where you're going yet. You're standing in the space between chapters. That's exactly where I find myself today."
All our love,
Stacey & Cannoli 🐾